As a child, I grew up seeing Easter as a time to celebrate — to eat, enjoy, and have no school. As an adult, that feeling continued. Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and Easter Monday were still “days off,” and I am not sure I ever fully understood the depth of the sacrifice Easter represents.
The thought that God sent His only begotten Son, Jesus, to die for me — sinful me, undeserving me — didn’t fully hit me. But now… now I get it.
It had to be reckless love. And honestly… what kind of love is this? The kind of love that would send Your only Son to come to earth for me.
To suffer.
To die.
To carry what should have been mine.
And then to rise again.
Sometimes we hear the Easter story so often that we forget how personal it really is. Because this was not just a moment in history.
This was love.
Love in action.
Love that came looking for me.
Love that refused to leave me bound.
Love that saw me in my mess, in my sin, in my brokenness — and still said: She is worth rescuing.
Scripture reminds us: “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” — Romans 5:8
While we were still sinners.
Not after we got it together.
Not after we became “good enough.”
Not after we earned it.
He loved us first.
Coming After Me
One of the lines in the song Reckless Love that always stays with me is this:
There’s no shadow You won’t light up
Mountain You won’t climb up
Coming after me
Every time I hear it, I think: God, what kind of love is this?
A love that comes after me.
A love that does not leave me in dark places.
A love that does not look at my flaws, my shame, my mistakes, and say, “She is too far gone.”
No. It comes after me. That is what Good Friday is. That is what Resurrection Sunday is. It is the proof that God did not stay distant.
He came near.
He pursued.
He made a way.
Lie You Won’t Tear Down
Then there is another line from the song Reckless Love that really ministered to me:
There’s no wall You won’t kick down
Lie You won’t tear down
Coming after me
Because sometimes the greatest battle is not what happened to us, but the lies we carry from it. The lies of low self-esteem. The lies of rejection. The lies that say:
- you are not enough
- you are too broken
- you are too far gone
- you are hard to love
But when I think about the cross, I cannot keep agreeing with those lies.
If Jesus was willing to die for me, then my life cannot be worthless.
If God gave His Son for me, rejection cannot define me.
If He rose again for me, shame cannot have the final say.
The Cross Already Spoke
His death and resurrection removed every “but.” The “but” that says:
- I know God loves people… but not me.
- I know God restores… but maybe not me.
- I know God can heal… but this part of me is too deep.
No. The cross already spoke.
Scripture says: “When you were dead in your sins… God made you alive with Christ… He forgave us all our sins… having nailed it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” — Colossians 2:13–15
The cross was not just suffering. It was victory. The resurrection proves that what tried to keep us bound did not win.
Not sin.
Not shame.
Not rejection.
Not darkness.
Not death.
Jesus rose. And because He rose, every lie must bow to the truth of what His love has already done.
Mercy I Did Not Earn
And as I sat with all of this, another thought came to me.
If Jesus could go to the cross for me while I was still undeserving…
If He could extend that kind of mercy to me…
Then how can I receive that mercy and still struggle to extend it to others?
I am not saying forgiveness is always easy.
Sometimes people wound deeply.
Sometimes what was done was painful, unfair, and hard to process.
But Easter reminds me that I was forgiven at a cost I could never repay. And if I truly understand the weight of what Christ has done for me, then I cannot hold onto unforgiveness like it is mine to keep.
Not because people always deserve access.
Not because wisdom and boundaries do not matter.
But because I do not want to carry what the cross came to free me from.
Scripture says: “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32
Just as Christ forgave you.
Not because it was easy.
Not because it did not cost something.
But because mercy was extended to me first.
And maybe that is part of the Easter message too: Not just that I have been loved deeply. But that I am being called to live from that love — to let it flow through me to others.
Closing Thought
This Easter, I am sitting with this truth again:
The cross is proof that God’s love is not passive.
It comes after me.
It tears down lies.
It steps into darkness and still says:
I want her. I will save her. I will redeem her.
What kind of love is this?
Closing Prayer
Father, Thank You for loving me with a love I will never fully comprehend.
Thank You for the cross.
Thank You for Jesus.
Thank You that Your love did not stop at sacrifice, but went all the way to victory.
Tear down every lie in me that does not agree with what the cross and resurrection have already spoken.
Help me to live from the truth that I am fully loved, fully seen, and fully pursued by You.
Teach me to extend the mercy I have received to others, and to forgive as You have forgiven me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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